


When the Italian Mob Boss is Actually Cute :(

by orphan_account



Series: MAFIA TIME [1]
Category: Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Also Davey is Italian, Davey and Crutchie are also cousins but in that weird fa- I'll explain it later, First Meetings, Jack is basically already in love, Mafia Boss & Detective AU, Other, and Jack, because I said so, davey is done (tm), how does one tag, i had fun writing this ngl, jack and crutchie are bros, legally bros, mostly comedic, our exhausted little boy, our local crackhead, poor Davey, pt. 1 rlly, rated t for my unholy words, ther'll be more, they might be ooc cuz i've never written them before
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21602437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Jack knew the different strategies and tactics for interrogation. He knew there were ones for guilt tactics, awarding behavior, and fear tactics. He knew the one David was trying to use on him was fear.But f*ck. Jack would be lying if he said he wasn't turned on by this.Jack shivered as he felt Davey's breath on his neck from his whispered threats. He felt more sweat roll down his back as he felt the cold blade of the knife against his neck.
Relationships: David Jacobs & Jack Kelly, David Jacobs & Sarah Jacobs, David Jacobs & his mum, David Jacobs/Jack Kelly
Series: MAFIA TIME [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1556926
Comments: 6
Kudos: 58





	When the Italian Mob Boss is Actually Cute :(

**Author's Note:**

> yo gurl is bACk with another crappy story that might not be finished but wAhtEvs ....
> 
> also happy thanksgiving if you celebrate it! nuthin like reading gay fanfiction on the night of feasts and family.
> 
> ....
> 
> eNjOy <3
> 
> p.s. i did NOT check it when i pasted it on here so if the paragraphs are wonky oof srry

“What was the _one_ thing I asked you to do, Race? The ONE. GODDAMN THING?” 

_Great_ , Jack scoffed to himself, _the one time I get to him, and he’s already pissed off._

There was a loud crash as the recipient smashed their fist on a table. The shadow inside the room had seemingly sat down at a desk, and started pouring itself a cup of… was that coffee? Either way, the caller on the other end (Race?) was frantically speaking into the phone, presumably trying to explain himself for whatever had happened. Jack was about to move, when the shadow inside started pacing again.

“I don’t fucking care that ‘he got away’ or ‘you couldn’t catch him, _boss,_ ’” the man mocked the other voice, anger practically _dripping_ from his words, “I specifically ordered you not. To. Kill. Him.” A long, frustrated sigh, “Now I have to clean this up. Again.” 

The shadow inside shifted again across the floor, “Anthony, this is the _last_ time you fail me, got that?” The voice was cold and threatening, making Jack shiver. There was a click and the man had hung up on whoever “Anthony” was.

Maybe this was not the time? Jack didn’t necessarily feel like trying to jump the most feared mob boss in New York already, let alone the man already seeming pissed to hell and back. Jack was just about to leave when he heard another click, and:

“Whoever is waiting outside my door, just come in already.” Not a question. A statement. An order. Jack would be damned if he didn’t follow that order.

He hesitated a moment, staying frozen from shock at the stern, yet tired sounding voice. What was going to happen to him? Killed? Gutted? _Expelled?_

Jack snickered to himself at his own joke for a second, then sighed as he realized his situation. Always good to have a laugh before you die. He moved to get up and face his extermination, but was instead _already_ facing his extermination. What a deal.

The man in front of him had a bored look on his face as his extended arm held a gun to another man’s head. He looked bored, tired, frustrated, cute and… _young_. The man, more boy, as Jack examined his face, looked to be around only Jack’s age. Out of all things, he didn’t expect a mob boss to only be in their mid 20s.

“I thought I told you to come in.” Still a statement. Jack shook himself out of his thought spiral and made a small squeaking noise as the gun shifted in a “come on” motion. Slowly getting up, Jack tried to calm his heart by counting the amount of creaks in the floor as he walked into the room.

As his eyes wandered, he examined the place he would die in. 

The office was on the top floor of the shadiest part of town, but still somehow managed to look classy. Carpeted chairs, a really nice looking desk (was that mahogany?), a dimly lit chandelier, books upon books, and more books. Damn, this guy liked books.

Jack snorted, “Get some more books, will ya?” He immediately turned around to apologise after he realized what he had just said, when he heard a scoff and was promptly knocked out with who knows what.

\----

David was not having a good day.

First, he drops the egg he was using for breakfast on his foot. Next he runs out of coffee, then needs to actually go out and get some more. After that, Race ends up calling him and telling him that, no, he did _not_ follow orders, and in fact killed the hostage he specifically told them to keep _alive_ . Next, he finds out that his office is _also_ out of coffee. And in the midst of all this, a strangely cute police officer had been snooping around his office, undetected.

He pinched the bridge of his nose as he sat frustratedly at his desk. He sighed as he folded his hands and plopped his head down on them. He stared blankly across the room at the man duct taped to one of his _expensive_ chairs. He would’ve brought the guy to one of the “interrogation” rooms, but he was in no mood to carry him down there. 

Sighing, he picked up a cup of water as he walked to the other side of desk, folding his legs one over the other and crossing his arms. He examined the officer while he was still peacefully asleep. 

David was not one to fall for hostages, but even _he_ couldn’t not say that this man was highly attractive. A strong jawline, soft, thick, dark wavy hair, a nicely toned body. The Mafia boss briefly wondered if the guy had abs. He quickly pushed that thought away as he felt himself starting to blush. 

Instead he opted to splash the cup of water onto the officer’s face, effectively waking him up. _Well, here we go_.

“Mornin, sunshine.” David said casually, a tinge of annoyance clear in his voice. He set the cup down and crossed his arms again, easily putting on his poker face. Which looked a little “bitchy” per say, but whatever, what works works.

The man shook his head, and looked around the room. Once he saw David, he turned wide-eyed and slightly paler. The Mafia couldn’t help but smirk at least a little bit.

“Y’know, my day hasn’t been exactly,” David waved a careless hand in the air, stepping forward, “ _fun._ So, just know that with whatever information you’re going to give me, the chances of you leaving this place alive are pretty slim.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he stood in front of the officer.

Was it a bad that the scared little “gulp” the officer gave after that gave David a strange sort of… satisfaction? What was it? Masochism? Whatever. He was the most feared Mafia boss in New York City, did that really matter?

“So,” he continued, “how the hell did you manage to sneak past all my guards without them knowing?” To be completely honest, this was a genuine question. It’s pretty impressive to make it past the guards at the door. Sometimes even those dimwits wouldn’t let _him_ pass. Idiots.

The answer was quick, and not the one he was expecting. 

“I didn’t.”

“What now?” David took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. Obviously, he didn’t believe the guy. He knows all the tactics criminals use to get out of trouble. (Plot twist: because he was one).

The man cleared his throat and gave him a wide, charismatic grin. “I didn’t. They let me through. Easy peasy.” 

To humour the guy, Davey scoffed, “Excuse me?”

“Yep. Talked to ‘em for a few minutes. Then they said they might’a well let me in.” Another wide smile, and a wink this time too.

Davey ignored the fluttering in his chest at the wink. _Just because he’s cute doesn’t mean you should be distracted, Jacobs._

“So. You _charmed_ your way through?” Of course he did, David wasn’t dumb. It’s all a part of the plan.

\-----

Being woken up with a splash of water wasn’t very fun or refreshing, but then again, Jack didn’t think the person waking him was trying to be fun or refreshing anyways.

Either way, he was awake, strapped to a chair with _duct tape_ of all things, and the man in front of him did not look very nice (that's a lie. He looked really hot, actually). Or happy.

“So. You _charmed_ your way through?” The boy asks. Jack prided himself a little on the fact that he sounded at least a little impressed. Or amused. Who knows? Either way, he couldn't help but smile back and the small, almost unnoticeable grin it earned him.

But then again, why _did_ Jack notice that? His fellow officers would say that he was about as observant as a brick wall, usually. Unless it was something cool or intriguing, Jack supposed.

Eh. Who wouldn't pay attention to the Mob boss anyways?

"Hell yeah I did. Perty damn good at it, as ya can see." He gave the man a confident smile smirk. It was mostly a smile, but the pride was obvious on his face.

The man looked thoughtful for a moment, a flash of understanding flitting across his face. "So it was the dimwits' fault then."

Wait, what?

"I always knew they weren't actually good enough for the job," he continued, clicking his tongue. He strode behind his desk and opened a few drawers, pulling out a pistol, some bullets, and a silencer. "This was just enough to prove that," he grinned wickedly at Jack, who was stuck in the chair, just now realizing what was going on.

"Are ya going to kill 'em?" Jack felt his face go pale, and he started to get a little shaky. 'Course, they were mobsters, criminals, sure, but… they didn't need to be killed.

"Well, yeah. I mean, they obviously can't do their job right, sometimes even forgetting that _I'm_ their boss," he said spitefully, "And now! They let a _cop_ through the doors of my obviously well-made criminal organization. Why wouldn't I kill them?" The man asked innocently, attaching the silencer to the pistol with a small click.

Jack couldn't let them die. No. Their blood would be on his hands. All because Jack wanted to save his own ass.

"Because they didn't do anything wrong? It was me who charmed my way through, shouldn't you be killing _me_ ?" His mind was reeling. He might as well try to save a couple others' lives. He gulped, "They were stupid, yeah, but their security is _really_ good! Not to mention all the big muscles an' that. I mean, very intimidating-"

Gunshot.

It was quiet, and quick, and Jack felt the bullet fly straight past his ear.

He was frozen in spot, wasn't even sure he was breathing at this point. But he sat there and stared as the boy, _no_ , man in front of him brought the gun to his lips in a shushing motion.

Jack gulped, and silently nodded in understanding.

With that, the man smiled and lowered the gun to his side, the other hand on his hip as if he was a mother about to scold her son.

"You've heard of rhetorical questions, right?" Jack nods frantically in agreement. "And I hope you know that I didn't _actually_ want to know why I shouldn't kill them in cold blood." He stepped closer to Jack, crouching down in front of the chair. "What I _do_ want to know, though," he puts the gun on Jack's thigh, his hand on top of it, "is how the _fuck_ you got in here."

Jack felt a single bead of sweat roll down his neck. His face was about a foot away from Jack, stony and cold, he smelled of mint and coffee and _why the hell is his hand on my thigh so goddamn distracting_.

Jack nodded again, still mute.

"And if you _don't_ tell me, they die. Got it?" The man gave an innocent, almost childlike smile as he said this, and put his other hand on Jack's other knee. 

Jack gulped and nodded again.

The Mafia nodded his head in a _go on_ sort of motion as he stepped back and crossed his arms. 

"I. Er." Jack stared the man dead in the eye, which was _terrifying_. But, as he looked, he noticed they were a pretty shade of bluish-gray, and, even though they were cold and stern, they felt strangely comforting? "We captured one of yours and used him to get us the best vantage point into the building…"

"Last name?"

Jack hesitated. It's a mob boss, you give them what they want or they take it, but. He didn't want to risk this man's life any more than he had to.

"How do I know ya won't just kill 'em?" Jack raised a nervous eyebrow.

"I won't be able to if what you're saying is true." The boy shrugged easily. As if this one asset wasn't important to him as much. Which, Jack thought was bull, and it must've shown on his face, since he continued with a sigh. "Look. This whole mafia thing? We're a family. It's been going on for generations and stuff. I just wanna know if they're okay." He fiddled with the gun handle.

Genuine worry _or_ defeat were definitely not things Jack expected to see on the extremely-threatening-yet-somehow-hot man's face, and Jack couldn't resist.

He gave one more raised eyebrow just to look like he was thinking about it, and as he saw the worried glance again and just ended up blurting it out. "Delancey." He sighed and looked down.

"Delancey?" He heard the guy mumble as he turned around and sat at his desk. "Oscar Delancey? How the hell did he get captu--"

"Davide!" Suddenly the door slammed open wide, and the man at the desk jumped and hurried over to it. 

There, was a woman who was approximately five foot tall and grandma-looking. She was reaching up to the man - David, was it? - and scolding him in Italian.

Finally, there was English being spoken.

"Mama, I'm a little busy here, can't you see?" David said in a hushed whisper, nodding towards Jack, who smiled brightly at the woman from his duct taped chair.

The woman spared him a small glance in sympathy for the boy, which Jack appreciated. She promptly turned to David and whacked him upside the head.

Something in Italian again, and then she was gone.

Jack smirked as he stared at the _Mob Boss_ who just got fucking _owned_ from his mother. "Yo, David, is it? I'mma call you Davey, but, uh, what was that all about?"

Another gunshot flew past his ear, which shut him up rather fast.

"Call me _Davey_ again and I _won't_ miss shooting your pretty little face." He sneered, red in the face as he stomped back to his desk. He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated and embarrassed. "Now will you just _stop looking at me like that_ and tell me how you captured Delancey."

David looked up again, poker face on completely. Jack pushed aside the giddy feelings about the whole "pretty face" thing and was only slightly disturbed from the immediate change of pace. 

"Easy. He was at a convenience store a couple 'a days ago buying condoms o' whateva'." Jack noticed the small pocket knife David had been playing with since he last sat down. "Didn't have no guys there wi' him eitha'. Not gonna lie, it was strange." Jack chuckled to himself at the details he hadn't managed to chuckle at before.

It was pure silence for a few good seconds. Jack thought for a moment that he said something wrong, when he heard a loud thud.

"Damnit, Delancey." David had stabbed his desk with the pocket knife so hard it was able to stand on it's own. He picked up the gun again and started pacing. "I _knew_ he would fuck up sometime these days."

"Someone's damn angry, Dave. What's up?" _Fuck_ , Jack's too casual for his own good. "I-I mean, um-"

"Delancey is just a fucking dumbass, and he might as well be dead man." At this point David had stopped pacing, stood in the middle of the room, and mumbling.

_Oh, not good_. Jack decided to himself as he watched the pissed off Mob boss in front of him gain a certain look in his eye. 

\------

"Delancey was one of our close friends. Well, his family was. The guy himself is actually a dick." He explained sourly. “I always thought he was too much of a degenerate to trust with our secrets, and the _one_ time no one listens to me, I’m _right_." He sighed as he rubbed his temples, sitting back at his desk. “Plus, he’s been trying to get into my sister’s pants ever since we were kids, so. No hard feelings when he dies.

That earned a gulp from the cop, “ _When_ , he dies? I thought you said you wasn’t gonna kill ‘im? You’s was a family an’ all that?” He had sounded _too_ casual for David to believe that he wasn’t actually worried about Delancey’s life.

He was so tired. And sick of shit. And angry. And frustrated. And just _done_.

With everyone. Including this nosy, cute bastard of a hostage.

David sighed defeatedly and poured himself a glass of whiskey. He plopped back down in his chair as a strange sort of silence fell between the hostage and his captor.

"Sooo… ya gotsta sister?" 

David just flipped him off, shutting his eyes and gritting his teeth. 

"Aight, fine." He could hear the damn smile in the man's voice. 

It went silent for a few more minutes as David contemplated just quitting his job as the Mafia leader and just dying; along with Jack wondering why he hadn't been shot yet.

"Oy, Dave." 

"The hell do you want now?" David asked with an unintentional venom in his voice. It’s not like he intended for it to sound so ticked off, but he was. 

"Damn, all I's was gonna ask is why I'm not dead yet." Jack looked just mildly offended by David, as if his whole life wasn't on the line at this point.

David pondered this for a moment. "That's actually a good question." He shook his head as he plucked the knife from his desk, fiddling with it between his fingers. He played with it a little more, and soon noticed that the cop was staring at him. An idea popped into his head, and he smirked.

He got up from his chair, knife still in hand as he sauntered towards the officer.

"What is your ranking in the force?" He crossed his arms over each other as he stood in front of the cop.

"Why's you wanna know?" The man asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow. He visibly gulped, though.

David smirked devilishly crouched down again. "Cops hold valuable information on criminals, don't they? The higher they rank, the more information." He took the hand holding the knife and set it on the man's thigh, just as he had done with the gun.

"Well, er, yeah, but I'm not that high a ranking anyways and that's--"

"See, I don't think that's very true." Davey said as he placed his other hand on the guy's other thigh as well, leaning in so their faces were inches apart. "If that _were_ true, I don't think they would've sent you out here, _alone_ , with no weapons, or known communication."

David grabbed the cop's collar, the knife held up to his neck as well. "So either this is a trap, which, no offense," he chuckled lowly, "is very unlikely. Or you're a detective." He hissed into the man's ear, as menacing as he could.

\---------

Jack knew the different strategies and tactics for interrogation. He knew there were ones for guilt, awarding behavior, and fear. He knew the one David was _trying_ to use on him was fear.

But _fuck_. Jack would be lying if he said he wasn't turned on by this.

Jack shivered as he felt Davey's breath on his neck from his whispered threats. He felt more sweat roll down his back as he felt the cold blade of the knife against his neck.

The hand on his thigh also wasn't helping. Was it Jack or was Davey trying to play a subtle game of firetruck? Probably just Jack.

"I, er, I'm lead detective." Jack said finally. Maybe, he figured, if he just confessed he wouldn't need to deal with the deliberate torture this man was putting him through. 

The little sly smile David gave him after that was reward enough honestly. 

"Hm. Nice." He cupped Jack’s face with the knife and patted his cheek. “So. What’s on my case file?”

“Why woul-”

“David, stop seducing the hostage.” A female voice popped up from behind them.

The Mafia boss looked up and just sighed, “Goddamnit, Saz. There’s this thing called _knocking_ .” He stood up from his position over Jack, and set the knife down on his leg. “And I wasn’t _seducing_ him, I was _interrogating_. Y’know, fear factors and stuff.”

Jack couldn’t help but snort, “Yeah, Dave. I’s scared as hell.” He looked up at David with a smug smile. 

“Fuck off.” David sneered, and shook his head, looking back up to the woman, “What are you doing here?”

The rather attractive woman walked up to stand beside the equally if not more attractive (definitely more attractive) David, “Ma told me you weren’t listening to her. Anyways,” she looked Jack up and down, “what are _you_ doing?” She snickered to herself, “You know we _did_ talk about seducing hostages, right? No more after last time. Although, I wouldn-”

David groaned, and slid a hand down his face, “Shut up already! This is business! I thought we agreed to _not_ interrupt interrogations and all that… stuff?” He looked a little red in the face as he gave the woman - Saz? - a sour look.

“Oh, yeah! Except when Ma specifically requests you to plan Les’ birthday party with her and you _don’t show up_.” She crosses her arms and raises her eyebrow, hints of a smirk teasing her lips.

“Ohoho! Birthday party? How rude of you not to invite me, Dave!” Jack scoffed with faux offense. “Low.”

David shot him another glare, but at this point, Jack had received so many that he was starting to think it was actually cute. 

Saz gave the same sly smile David had, “Yeah, _Dave_.” At this, Davey flipped her off, “How rude of you to not invite him to our little brother’s birthday party.” She stepped in front of Jack and took the knife off his leg, and looked him in the eye with a playful grin, “You should actually come.”

“Sarah. I love you, but he is a fucking _cop_ .” David looked at her incredulously. “I was interrogating him for a _reason_.”

“Wait, he’s a _cop_?” Sarah flipped her head around to face Davey. “Why didn’t you just start with that?” She gave him a sort of look that conveyed a feeling of “You ignorant dumbass.”

“Well- I- Uh-” The mob boss spluttered, then just groaned again frustration, “Whatever. Point is,” he snatched the knife from Sarah’s hand, “He’s a detective, and can be useful.”

“Or just stupid.” Sarah provides. “I mean, he was dumb enough to try and get in this place anyways.”

“Ay, I thought you’s was on my side?” 

“Pfft. I still am. But anyone dumb enough to give David a nickname is just _so_ worth making fun of.” She smiled sweetly at him.

Wow. Out of all the work Jack had done to get into the damn building, and he’s still mocked for it. If someone were to count everything he’d done today, sorta-kinda falling for the Mob boss would definitely be at the top of the “Jack Kelly is Stupid™ and Here’s Why” list. But even _that_ was reasonable. The man was gorgeous. At this point, Jack would probably tell him everything he wanted to know, and then some within the blink of an eye.

_Oh, okay then_ . Jack shook his head to clear his thoughts of _that_ while the two in front of him bickered.

_Thump!_ “Ow, the fuck?” Jack would’ve rubbed his head, but alas, his hands were tied behind him with duct tape.

Sarah had thwacked him upside the head to regain his attention. “What’s your name, detective?”

“Uh…” Should he give the Mafia his name? Would that be a good idea? Aw, what the hell. They’re probably gonna kill him anyways. “Jack Kelly. Nice to meet ya.” He gave Sarah a charming smile.

“Wait. _You’re_ Jack Kelly?” David uncrossed his arms and walked towards him again, silently shooing the woman from her spot. “You’re the detective that Crutch sent here to come get intel?”

“Yeah? You’s knows about me?” To say the least, Jack was a little confused. Honestly, though, the whole day has been a bit upside down anyways. “Wait a quick second, pal, how do ya know _Crutchie_?”

Sarah looked between the two and mimicked her accomplice by running a hand down her face, seemingly tired of all their shit. “Alright, I’m just gonna take my leave now while you two figure this out.” She gestured between them. “Also, David, Ma is still gonna bug you about Les’ birthday, so, be prepared I guess.” 

“Bye, Jack! See you at the party!” And with that they were alone again. But before she left, she whispered something to Davey in Italian, which made him positively beet red from head to toe. Well, assuming head to toe. All Jack could see was his face and neck, really. (Even though he _definitely_ wouldn't mind seeing more.)

  
  


A moment of silence before Dave broke the silence again with a frustrated groan, “Aaand, she took my knife. Thing was like a hundred bucks.” He threw a helpless arm towards the way she had left. The boy looked so Done with everything, and Jack wondered for the first time that afternoon if Mafia bosses actually got stressed out or depressed.

“Long day, huh?” Jack attempted conversation.

Davey gave him a tired glance as he made his way back to his desk, plopping back down in his chair and running a hand through his well-groomed hair, then resting it on the armrest. “Tell me about it.” Was all he said, leaning back in his chair as his eyes closed.

Jack gulped, questions itching at the back of his head, “So, uh. How do ya know Crutchie?”

“He’s _our_ little agent of sorts. Can’t get much from him, though, since he’s only a policeman, but, it’s all we’ve had for awhile.” Another pause. “How do you know him?”

So he just found out that his best friend and brother has lied to him this whole time and has been helping out the fucking _Mafia_ , while also working for the police force. Fun. “Uh, he’s my best friend.” A nervous chuckle. “Woulda thought he would tell me about his lovely time with the Mafia.”

A bitter chuckle leaves Dave’s mouth, “The spite in your voice as you say that explains the exact reason _why_ he didn’t tell you.” _That makes sense._ David shifts in his seat to sit straighter to look at the cop across the room. “Look, he’s not a bad guy, Jack.” The way Davey says his name makes Jack shiver, “Just another guy doing what he has to, to survive and all that,” he shrugs. “That’s what life’s all about anyways. _Survival_.”

Jack took this moment to _really_ look at the man sitting at the desk. Pushing aside his attractiveness and forced intimidation facades.

Jack saw a tired boy, who looked stressed and weak and only a little scared and just so _exhausted_ with everything and everyone. He recalled their experiences of the day: His interrogation. The small and almost unnoticeable amused smiles. His mother walking in on them. The family bickering and gossip. Just, David’s family life in general. He finally understood that no, the Mafia isn’t trying to be bad just to be bad. They are _surviving_ in this awful simulation called _life_.

Sure they’ve done some pretty awful things, but then again, who hasn’t? “Survival of the fittest.” Jack said solemnly.

“Heh. Hallelujah to that.” Came David’s tired response in return.

Jack looked up and saw the tired boy again. Right now, his facade wasn’t up, and he wasn’t trying to be scary or brave or anything. He looked sad and just a little upset that he was seemingly _alone_ despite the family and Mafia and everyone around him. Jack figured then that, _he really just wants to give him a hug_.

The detective gulped, _Am I really about to do this? I mean, Crutch has already, and he’s livin’ swell._ Jack halfheartedly weighed the pros and cons of helping out the Mob. Con: He’d be lying to the entire U.S. government, and if caught, would probably be sent to prison for the rest of his life. Maybe even death row. Pro: He’d get to see the elusive David-the-Mafia-Leader more often, and maybe one of these days actually accomplish his life with a hug.

“So, uh, Davey?” He looked up, and the man was still at his desk, seemingly pondering all his life choices. “I could get ya all the info ya need, then you’d kill me, but, um,” he reviewed his pros and cons list quickly one more time, “d’ya think I could just, like, join ya whole organization like Crutchie?”

David looked up then, an unbelieving look on his face. “Oh, yeah sure, just let me add you onto the list of _people-who-will-probably-stab-us-in-the-back_ list.” Sarcasm heavily laced his voice as he scoffed. “Crutchie is only in it because he’s my cousin.”

“Okay, but -- wait, Crutch is your cousin? Y’know what? Story for another time!” Jack was stumbling over his words a little, “I’m offering you unlimited info for as long as I’m alive, no questions asked, nothing in return. One-way street.” Jack leaned back in his chair, not that he had much room to lean forward anyways, proud of the horrifically unfair deal he just offered. _Damn, Kelly, you sound desperate._

The boss looked like he was pondering this for a moment, seeming to make his own pros and cons list. Jack briefly wondered if _his_ face or body went into that, because Davey's certainly went into his.

"There's always something someone wants, Kelly. How much you want?" Davey was standing in front of him again, a gun in his hand. "I ain't going over two thousand a piece."

_How much? A piece? Two? Thousand?_ "Wha-"

"Money-wise, Kelly."

Oh. Jack hadn't even considered pay.

"Oh, uh. What would you recommend?"

Dave gave a thoughtful look, "If I wanted to be mean, I'd say nothing, but, I'm feeling a little nicer today, so. Fifteen hundred once a month." Jack gave him a grin so wide it hurt his face to even look at. "But _only_ if I decide it's actual _helpful_ information. Got it?"

"You's got it, boss. Now, can I uh, be let free?" Jack stretched at the duct tape restrainments to emphasize.

"Oh, shit. That's right!" David's face gained a small dusting of pink as he walked over to his desk and started opening drawers. He returned with a pair of scissors and paperwork. "Now, I'm letting you go but you have to sign these papers and fill out every piece of information this requires you to fill out. If not, you're dead." He gave an innocent smile.

Jack nodded in understanding as David set to work on cutting him free from the chair. Once the duct tape was off, he stood up and shook his wrists and hands just to get a feel for them again, and gestured for the paperwork.

When he looked up Jack noticed that David was not-so-subtly staring at him. It made Jack feel a bit prideful and a but self-conscious at the same time. He cleared his throat.

David shook his head and his eyes met with Jack, handing him the papers with a firm smile.

  
Given the papers, Jack skimmed over them to get the gist of what this whole thing was about. And, it looked pretty much like a kindergarten survey, except the information on who your family is and where you live is given to _much_ more dangerous people. He nodded as he read through the questions, "Noice. Got a pen?"

**Author's Note:**

> could i just put the whole story into a chapter fic? yes, yes i can.
> 
> am i going to? no, no i am not.
> 
> why am i doing that? i, i don't know.


End file.
